It’s been a rough few weeks with my little PDA boy, but we’re getting there. Where ‘there’ is, I have no idea. A semblance of normality, I suppose. I think it looks like this:
Ha ha. But one of the best things I did was to talk to my partner about the total lack of coping. He listened, I ranted, he listened some more, I ranted some more. At the end of it, I felt better. I might not have made much sense, but it was great to be able to talk to him about the spaghetti mess of thoughts in my head.
I also read a other blogs from those with PDA kids, and was assured I wasn’t alone. Sure, you’re kid tries to smack the crap out of you because of xyz reason, but you can survive it, and use it as part of his learning.
For anyone else out there who might be reading blogs, hoping they aren’t alone in feeling like the Worst Parent in the world (Reason Number 56: your child has just grabbed a stranger womans boobs and proclaimed them to be ‘squishy’), I say: TAKE HEART! YOU ARE PROBABLY MOST AWESOME! And if you need a reason to smile, I leave this without comment: